


Pining and Portage

by Rochester



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Also read this if you Have gone camping, Bisexual Lance (Voltron), Campfires, Camping, Coming Out, Day At The Beach, Enemies to Lovers, First Kiss, M/M, Pining Lance (Voltron), Read this if you've ever fallen in love with a cute dorky boy while camping, Read this if you've never gone camping, Sharing a Bed, Slow Burn, Swimming Boys
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-21
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-26 12:19:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15000749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rochester/pseuds/Rochester
Summary: A camping trip with Lance, on a secluded island, with nobody but Shiro around for miles. What could go wrong?In which Keith and Lance are forced to work together against nature, and begin to learn something about themselves.You can't run away from your feelings when there's nowhere else to go.





	1. Portage and Pine Trees (Maybe?)

“Eh guys…It’s slipping.”

“What do you mean _it’s slipping_?

“I mean it’s…”

“I know what you mean Lance, but just hold on to it.”

“No, I think we need to stop for a minute.”

“Lance, we can’t keep stopping every…”

“No, Keith, he’s right. Let’s stop and let him…”

“See Keith? Shiro knows how to be a...”

“Lance!”

Before they could say another word, the canoe slipped. From its position on Lance’s shoulder, the front point of the boat began to tip. The varnished wood slid over the bump of his shoulder shoulder-bone, gradual enough at first for Keith to watch in growing horror, and then began to tumble all at once.

Keith tried to hold it, but feeling the powerful shifting weight, knew he was fighting a losing battle. He spilled out to the side, tumbling over a cluster of tree-roots. He landed in painful tangle with a roughly knotted root jabbing into his ribs.

The front of the boat hit the forest floor with a muted clunk, rattling the supplies they were carrying in it. Looking up, Keith saw Shiro struggling with the back end of the canoe, which he was still holding up on his good shoulder. He scrambled to his feet to help, but Lance got there first; together, he and Shiro lowered the rest of the canoe a little more softly.

“Okay guys,” Shiro said, panting a little. He stood up straight, rolling his shoulders and flinching at the pain of it. “You both okay?”

“I’m okay,” Lance said, raising his hand meekly.

“Yeah, me too,” Keith echoed. “No thanks to Lance.”

“Hey,” Lance shot back. “It’s not like I was _trying_ to drop it. The whole thing just slipped.”

“Hey,” said Shiro, and they both stopped immediately. His voice had a tolerant quality to it that seemed to match the still forest around them. “Keith, Lance did drop it, but you jumped out too. It takes all three of us to carry this thing.”

“Yeah, Keith,” Lance said, folding his arms smugly. Keith elbowed him in the ribs.

Shiro watched with amusement as Lance stumbled away, scowling. “Fighting won’t get us anywhere,” he said, seeming to think aloud. “But neither will gloating. Keith, I’ll let you have that one.”

Keith nodded, making a genuine effort not to gloat. He didn’t know if one of Lance’s flying kicks would get a pass, but he didn’t want to find out.

“Alright, let’s check the boat for damage and keep going. Remember, we have a long way to go still, so it’s important we work together.”

The forest floor was bumpy and uneven, and due to the sheer area, established routes were practically non-existent. At times, narrow gaps or fallen trees made it necessary to take detours. Keith worried as they walked about the possibility of getting turned around.

Shiro seemed to know where they were going; he had entrusted Keith with carrying the compass, and every now-and-then asked for a reading. Lance never enquired and never seemed to worry. When they’d parked the car this morning and first entered the woods, he’d developed a grin from ear to ear. It was now hours later, and it had only occasionally dipped. Every tangle of trees or little clearing seemed to fill him with delight. Around lunch time, he spotted a rabbit and proceeded to chatter excitedly about it for almost an hour. Keith shook his head at this, but he had to admit it was at least a little sweet.

The canoe rattled and clattered as they walked. Carrying a large canoe for hours through the woods was a pain enough already, but to make matters worse, it also held all their supplies. Three sleeping bags, three personal tents, ropes, pegs, a hammock (this was Shiro’s addition), a first aid kit, an emergency satellite phone, mallets, axes, matches, torches, all plus enough food and drinks for two week’s camping.

Twice more that day, Lance said he felt the canoe slipping and they all had to stop to re-adjust. The second time, Shiro decided that they should take a break.

“We should give our shoulders some time to recover,” he said, as he sat down against the side of the boat. It was a funny image, this over-stuffed canoe sitting in the middle of the forest.

“Not to be unoriginal, but are we nearly there yet?” Lance asked, finding a nice tree to lean against. “Cus if we have to try row this thing as well, I think my arms might drop off.”

Lance illustrated this point by tugging on his left arm, and making a popping sound with his mouth.

“We can leave you behind if you want,” Keith answered. “You can swim out after us in the morning.”

“And let you pick the best spot first?” Lance laughed like a detective uncovering a cunning plot. “I don’t think so!”

“I’ll keep a good spot for you,” Keith shrugged. “One with lots of spiders.”

“We’re not far now, I think,” Shiro said. “I’d say another half an hour, if I remember right. We can have something to eat on the beach, then get over to the island.”

As it turned out, Keith had no way to test how accurate Shiro’s prediction. Since phone reception was almost certainly nil, he hadn’t brought his phone. He’d lost his last watch to a swimming pool, so when he heard about the boat, he decided to leave that home too. All he knew is that the time to reach the beach _felt_ like more than half an hour, but he had no way to prove it.

The three of them had a light meal of on the beach, three pre-made rolls that Hunk had given them before they left. The water seemed a healthy bluish colour, and it lapped up against the thin beach in careful waves, gently rolling the smaller pebbles in its wake. The island seemed a relatively short distance away, and the sun was by now hanging behind its tallest trees. Soon, they felt the first chilly winds of evening, and Shiro said that it was time to move.

After all the hours of carrying it, Keith had to admit some excitement at actually getting the canoe into the water. Finding a suitable looking pushing-off point, Keith and Lance rolled up their trousers the knee and waded into the water, pulling the boat out behind them. Shiro sat in the coxswain’s position, and laughed cheerfully when they asked why he wasn’t helping.

Soon the water was up past their knees, and the boat floating easily. Keith braced himself on the edge and lifted himself in, conscious of his weight against the balance of the canoe. Lance attempted to follow a second later. Backing up against the boat, he tried to lift himself ass-first on board. Clearly he misjudged, because a second later Keith heard a splash and felt a slap of water across his face. He looked sharply in Lance’s direction, only to see him scrambling wet-haired onto the canoe.

“What the hell did you do?” Keith asked, wiping a sodden lock of hair off his face.

“Nothing,” answered Lance, looking at him with a poker face which was practically bursting at the seams.

Keith turned to look at Shiro, who avoided his eye while supressing a smile. Keith directed a disbelieving shake of his head at Lance. The boy tried his best to look unfazed, while his wet hair stuck up in unlikely spikes and droplets dripped onto his nose, where they glittered in the afternoon sun. After a few moments, Keith couldn’t help but laugh.

Once the moment had passed, Lance and Keith fetched their paddles and began to push themselves further out into the water, towards the island. Since the paddles were pretty unwieldly without both hands, Shiro stayed perched at the stern, watching and giving the occasional word of encouragement.

The boat bobbed pleasingly in the water. It rocked gently, just enough to be relaxing. Keith was far from familiar with boats, though he was a good swimmer, and with the sun throwing shades of red into the sky, he was half tempted to kick back and fall asleep here.

On the contrary, rowing alongside Lance felt equally much like competition as co-operation. Every so often, he felt certain that Lance was trying to out-do him, and that the boat was veering off to one side. When he felt this, Keith redoubled his own rowing, prompting the same response. Soon it felt like he and Lance were both paddling at Olympian speed, straining their arms and shoulders in an equal but opposite labour so that it showed no sign whatsoever. Keith wasn’t entirely sure whether he imagined it or not, but they seemed to reach the opposite shore in record time.

When they reached the far beach, they realised that pulling the heavy-laden boat _out_ of the water was a much harder prospect than pulling it in, and all three of them did their part, straining with gritted to teeth to pull the keel up over the steep sand-pebble beach.

“Okay team,” Shiro said, finally ashore. While Keith and Lance stood hunched and panting from the exertion, Shiro seemed entirely unfazed. “We made it. Good time, too. We should have about an hour before it gets dark.”

“We should start putting up tents, then,” Keith said. He leaned over into the canoe, and fetched his tent-bag. Red, naturally; he slipped it over his shoulder, enjoying the clink of the metal pegs inside.

“Yeah, what Keith said,” said Lance, as he skipped down to the boat and found his own tent. “Where are we setting up?”

“Well, that’s kind of up to you guys,” Shiro said. “I got you this far – now you have to find our spot for the night. The island isn’t very big, but there’s still enough room for you to…”

He didn’t get the chance to finish before Lance, flushed with thoughts of adventure, ran head-long into the island woods. Keith and Shiro watched him disappear into the maze of trees for a moment, before they heard the sound of his footsteps returning, and he stuck his head back out onto the beach.

“Hey Keith, you come too. Buddy system and all that stuff.”

Keith shrugged and walked towards him. “I don’t think this island is big enough to get lost on, you know” he said.

“Nah you can get lost anywhere. I got lost in my own house once. Well, it wasn’t my house, it belonged to my Auntie, but were living there for a while, and it had these super confusing doors that all…”

Lance’s voice grew small as he, lost in his own story, strolled away into the woods again. With something that couldn’t decide if it was a smile or a snort, Keith followed.

“Be safe, you two,” Shiro called after them.

Once let free into the woods, without the canoe to slow him down, Lance was like an energetic puppy who slipped his lead. He darted through trees, skipping over roots, pausing occasionally to scramble up branches or scramble over moss-covered rocks. At least once, a cluster of vines snapped under his foot, sending him tumbling backwards out of a tree. Keith was certain he would break something, ending their trip before it even began. Instead, he looked over to see Lance perched perilously on the balls of his feet, looking as surprised at this turn of events as Keith.

“What can I say,” Lance shrugged. “I have cat-like instincts. Lance McClain always lands on his feet.”

“Please just… try not to do anything stupid,” Keith answered. “If you break a leg, I’m not carrying you back in that damn canoe.”

Lance looked up mid-way patting himself down to give an exaggerated scowl. “Oh, lighten up a little, mister _I’m too cool for camping._ What’s the point if you don’t climb a few trees?”

“Climb all the trees you want,” Keith shrugged. “Just don’t fall out of them. I’m going to try find a campsite before it gets dark.”

“God you’re gloomy,” Lance countered, jogging to catch up with him. Loose twigs bent beneath his feet, but didn’t crack. “We’re not in the Garrison, you know. We can have a little fun with things.”

“I know that,” Keith countered, aware that the bite in his voice didn’t exactly make him sound so fun-loving.

Lance gave him a slightly disappointed look which, despite himself, made Keith feel guilty. Lance shrugged and walking on ahead, and Keith could only noticed that his shoulders were a little bit slumped. Keith wrestled with dozen different ways to follow up the sentence, and ended up doubling down instead.

“I just want to make sure we have somewhere to sleep tonight,” he called. “Look, after that, you’ve got two weeks to climb every tree on this island.”

“Sure, sure,” Lance shrugged.

“I don’t want to spend the night in that canoe. Do you?”

“I don’t know, it could be worse. I mean, it’s full of food.” Lance leaned back to speak now, his cocky grin and upright pose already springing back into place. “What’re you so worried about? I’d keep you warm,” he said, and winked.

Keith grumbled by way of reply. He thought about finding a pine-cone to throw at the back of Lance’s head, but he didn’t see any around. Now that he thought of it, pine-cones probably came from pine trees right? Were there pine-trees in this region? Keith had no idea.

“Okay, I have an idea,” Lance said.

“I can’t wait.”

“Shut up. But listen – I know how we can find a campsite _and_ get you over your weird fear of climbing trees.”

“I don’t have a fear of climbing…”

“Sure you do, it’s obvious. So look, we’ll climb the tallest tree we can find, and we’ll use that as a look-out.”

“That doesn’t solve anyth…”

“Look, this one’s perfect.”

“Lance!”

Lance was already running towards a colossal tree up ahead. Hoping to catch him before he disappeared up the branches, Keith broke into a sprint. It was too late; by the time Keith reached him, Lance had scrambled squirrel-like up the bark and onto the lower branches. He sat on a wide branch like it was a garden swing, beaming down at Keith.

“This is perfect,” Lance said.

“This is a waste of time,” Keith said.

“Nonsense. Come on, get up here.”

“Lance, we need to get going.”

“We won’t know where we’re going unless we climb the tree.”

Keith looked up at the cocky boy in the tree and shook his head. Maybe that slight pang of guilt had taken over his better senses. Later, that was the reason he gave himself for humouring him.

“Lance, if I climb that tree with you, will you take finding a campsite seriously?”

“Obviously, dude. Scout’s honour.”

Shaking his head in disbelief, directed mostly at himself, Keith slipped his tent bag off his shoulders and let it fall to the ground. Stretching his arms, he looked up and down the length of the tree.

“Fine,” he said. “I’ll climb your tree.”

The trunk was thick and ancient looking, wrapped all around in a shroud of climbing vines. The first branches were well over Keith’s head, but a few knots and bumps marked the bark, which Keith figured should make could foot-holds.

A little uncertain, Keith put his boots down on a suitable looking spot and pushed, lifting himself to test a line of vines. At first pull, they seemed a little weak, but this was deceptive; when Keith tested his weight against them, they held just fine. Clinging on with both hands, he pulled himself towards them, searching with his spare foot for another hold.

Lance, overhead, nodded his encouragement.

“You’re doing great, for a tree-hater,” Lance said. “Now just push yourself!”

Keith found another spot to push his foot off, and lifted himself up another few inches. Holding himself taut against the wood, he consolidated his grip. Here, however, he found himself having to hold his body at an awkwardly narrow angle, bent over like a drawing compass. He couldn’t stand upright, so he had to rely on his hands for balance. Without releasing his hands, however, he couldn’t climb any further. Barely three feet off the ground, and he was already stuck.

“That’s it!” Lance was saying, from up on his perch. “Now just reach for that little hole-thingy with your hand.”

“Holey-thingy?” Keith echoed, gritting his teeth a little.

“Yeah, that one on your right.” Lance pointed, and Keith looked up to follow his finger.

Keith shook his head. “I can’t reach that,” he grunted.

“Sure you can. I did it.”

“I can’t take my hands off here.”

“You totally can. Just hold yourself with your feet.”

“That won’t work, I’ll slip.”

“Just try it.”

Keith took his right hand off the vine, and pushed with his legs. Immediately, his boots slipped off the bark and he started to slide. Panicking despite himself, he pushed himself away from the tree, falling all of an embarrassing two feet. He hit the floor and hissed, his pride more bruised than anything else.

“See,” he muttered, looking up at Lance with his hands on his hips. “I told you I’d fall.”

“You didn’t fall,” Lance corrected. “You jumped. You thought you were going to fall, so you bailed out.”

“Alright, Shiro,” Keith said.

Lance chuckled at him. Then, a sudden flash of inspiration showed itself on Lance’s face.

“Okay dude, idea,” Lance said. He rolled over onto his belly, wrapping his thin legs around the branch to steady himself. “You just need help getting over the first bit. So, hold onto me. And use those thighs of yours, this time. I _know_ you have leg strength.”

Keith looked up at him, breathing hard, and nodded. HE was committed to climbing this tree now. To quit at this point would be unthinkable.

“Okay,” he said, taking Lance’s outstretched arm. He wrapped his fingers around the boy’s forearm, and felt Lance do the same. “You ready, Lance?”

“Ready when you are,” Lance nodded.

“You’re sure? I don’t want to pull you out of the tree.”

“Don’t flatter your scrawny ass,” laughed Lance.

“Look who’s talking.”

Keith grunted as he pushed his boot-heel off a prominent root. Lance clung tight to his forearm and pulled, gritting his teeth with the exertion. Keith felt himself being pulled upwards immediately.

His spare hand seemed to find the hold easily, and suddenly his feet were finding their places by themselves. With a final exertion, aided by Lance’s lifting, Keith scrambled up onto the wide hanging branch that was Lance’s perch.

Lance, laughing happily, shuffled down the branch to give Keith room.

“Good job,” he said, slapping Keith’s shoulder. “Just the rest of the tree to go.”

Keith looked up at the tree, climbing like a perilous tower through the canopy of trees, and groaned.


	2. Is it a Squirrel? Is it a Cat?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys climb up a tree, and then climb down it again.

“Lance, get your ass out of my face.”

“Maybe if you climbed a little faster, it wouldn’t have to be.”

Minutes later, half way up the tree, and progress was slow. Keith’s boots were not made for climbing, and sturdy vines grew scarcer the higher they went. He moved in deliberate, tentative bursts, testing every foot-hold before he shifted his weight. At this distance above the forest floor, falling was not advisable.

Lance, meanwhile, seemed entirely at home in the tree. He scurried from branch to branch, his body bending fluidly and his limbs working with a simple, self-confident strength. At times he’d find a perch to let Keith catch up, sitting on a branch with his legs dangling carelessly underneath.

“How much further… until we can stop?” Keith grunted, pulling himself up onto a thicker-looking branch. His hands were gritty with dirt and bark, and he dreaded looking down at his clothes. He just hoped there was no bird poop.

“You’re doing pretty good,” Lance answered, blatantly dodging the question. “Who ever said you couldn’t climb trees?”

“Nobody said that,” Keith answered. “I said I _shouldn’t_ climb trees.”

Lance waved away the distinction like an inconvenient smell. The very thought of taking his hands off the tree made Keith’s head swim, just a little bit.

“Look, we’re taller than half the trees here now,” Lance said, grinning from his perch. He reached over and tugged on a nearby branch, reaching over from another tree. “A little bit further, and we should be able to see the whole island.”

“And then we go back down? Thank god,” Keith answered. He leaned himself against the trunk and freed one hand, just for a moment, to wipe the sweat off. Once it was back in place, he repeated the procedure with the other. Both hands seemed to grow sweaty again immediately.

Lance shrugged and hopped back to his feet, perching on all fours on his branch.

“We’ll make a climber out of you yet,” he said, and jumped – literally, _jumped_ \- to reach a long drooping branch hanging just over-head. He caught it with both hands, swung for a moment, and pulled himself up onto his belly.

Keith felt a little bit sick, and tried his best to ignore it.

Climbing through relatively clear space was one thing, climbing through the wispy top-branches of the other trees was quiet another. As they progressed upwards, and the structure became thinner and weaker looking, Keith became even slower. Lance, for his part, didn’t complain. At one point, Lance mused aloud whether he could hop over onto a neighbouring tree; the death-glare that Keith gave him for that was almost audible, and Lance quickly abandoned the idea.

“Em, Lance,” Keith called at one point, standing with his arms wrapped in a full bear-hug around the central trunk. It was noticeably, worryingly narrower now.

“What’s up, my dude?”

Lance’s head popped down from an overhead cluster of leaves. There was dirt smeared across his cheek like war-paint, and Keith didn’t even want to think about how it got there. Keith looked over at him, and swallowed.

“I think I’m stuck.”

“Stuck?” Lance looked at his position and shook his head. “No, you’re totally not stuck. See, just move your foot over here.”

Holding onto a branch with one hand, Lance let his body hang down to point out the necessary foot-hold. Keith shook his head.

“That won’t work. My boots are too big.”

“What?”

“I said my boots are too big. I don’t have little trainers like you. They won’t hold.”

Lance looked down at Keith’s boots and laughed.

“You’re right,” he said. “I always told you those emo-boots would be the death of you.”

“Lance,” Keith growled, clinging tighter onto the tree. “First of all, don’t start talking about my death. Secondly, you have literally never said that.”

Lance shrugged. “I definitely thought it,” he said. “And no, this won’t be the death of you. Look, I’ll help.”

Keith shook his head, fearful at tipping his balance. “No Lance, I think we’ll have to head back down.”

“Wait wait wait,” Lance interrupted. “There’s a way. Don’t bail out on me this high up.”

With that same natural fluidity that made it seem so easy, Lance slinked off his branch and picked a route down to Keith’s level. Keith expected him to stop there, but instead he travelled even further down. For a second, that he’d never admit to later, Keith was afraid that he was about to leave him, and the thought was genuinely frightening.

Instead, Lance stopped so that his head was about level with Keith’s waist, and positioned himself into a stable position. Once he was secure, he leaned his shoulder against the trunk for stability and raised his two cupped hands.

“Here you go, dude,” Lance said, offering up his hands.

“What the hell is that?” Keith asked.

“Duh,” Lance said, raising an eyebrow at him. “It’s a foot-hold.”

“You’re kidding.”

Lance shook his head insistently. “I can hold you, go on.”

Lance must have seen the look of uncertainty of Keith’s face, because he followed it up with a joke.

“Look, this way I get you look at _your_ ass for a change. Now go on.”

Grinning despite himself, Keith gently loosed his boot from its current position and put in between Lance’s hands. He was gentle, at first, afraid to put his full weight down. Lance was true to his word, however. The more weight Keith shifted, the harder Lance pushed up against him. Soon he had his balance, and Lance was giving him a much-needed leg up. For the second time today, Keith cleared the hurdle with Lance’s help, and grunted by way of thanks.

From this point on, the climb was relatively smooth. Keith kept going slowly, but Lance stayed beneath him, pointing out the route and helping as needed. Soon, they were high in the tree crown, and when Keith looked up, he realised he could see the sky.

“Woah,” he said, despite himself.

Keith climbed the last little distance and looked around, marvelling at the patchy field of leaves and snaking branches all around him. From here he could see over most of the island; only a few tree-tops peaked higher around him, like sentinels over the landscape. The sun had sunk further in the sky since they started climbing, and the landscape was now painted in a harsh contrast of orange and shadow. Further out, he could see the lake ringing in the outline of the island. He wondered, if he craned his neck, if he could spot Shiro and the canoe. He didn’t even need to brush his hair out of the way; up here, the cool evening wind did that for him.

A moment later, Lance’s head popped into view. He took a deep breath at the top, as if surfacing from underwater, and then laughed to himself. There was a single curled leaf trapped in his hair, right beside his ear.

“Hell yeah dude,” Lance said, surveying the tree-scape. If his grin could ever reach a limit, Keith thought this was it. “Isn’t this cool?”

“It’s… something,” Keith said, controlling his breathing. His own branch was thinner and more up-right, so that he was clinging to it like a vertical pole. “It’s definitely a view.”

Lance nodded enthusiastically. “We could probably see Shiro’s car from here.”

Checking his grip, Lance climbed out to the top of an adjacent branch, casually unaware of how perilously he was balanced. He looked out over the sea of trees, holding one hand over his eye like a pirate in the crow’s nest.

“See if you can find us a camp-site while you’re at it,” Keith said. “That’s the reason we climbed this thing, after all.”

“Oh, that was just an excuse,” Lance said. “You knew that.”

The forest was pretty thick, but there were definite thin patches. Keith looked for any large enough gaps, which would indicate a clearing. He guessed a clearing would be a good spot for a camp, right?

“Jeez, you look so serious,” Lance said, peering at him.

“I’m not serious,” Keith countered. “I’m just taking this seriously.”

“Well you look too serious.”

“Well _you_ have a leaf in your hair,” Keith shot back. He felt childish just saying the words, but he at least resisted the urge to stick out his tongue.

“Cool.” Lance shrugged happily. “So do you.”

“What?”

Keith gingerly patted around his hair, trying to dislodge the leaf without letting go of the tree. HIs branch swayed with his weight, and his stomach twisted a little.

“No dude, by your ear,” Lance said. “No no, your other… here, let me…”

Lance reached to brush the leaf away. Keith, instinctively, slapped his hand away.

The movement, suddenly, was too much. Keith’s branch rocked under him, swaying like a melting pogo-stick. Panic alerts shooting through him, and he reached for the wood. This only exasperated the movement; the branch seemed to bend towards him, and Keith felt his balance shifting backwards. The whole branch tipped and shuddered, as if trying to shake him off.

Keith felt his heart spike, felt the whole world shifting, and was sure he was falling.

His fall was arrested suddenly by Lance’s fist, clinging roughly to the front of his jacket. Keith gulped a large, panicked breath, and seized onto Lance’s arm with both hands. His fingers dug deep into the fabric of his jacket, clinging for dear life; Keith could swear he was leaning back at a 45 degree angle to the ground.

“Woah, woah,” Lance was saying, looking at him with wildly wide eyes. “Holy shit dude. Are you okay?”

Keith nodded hurriedly, using Lance’s arm to haul himself back into an upright position. He found a stable section of branch to hold onto, and hunkered himself down around it. Lance stayed near him, keeping one arm on his shoulder for extra security.

“I’m okay,” Keith said, breathing out some of the excess tension that had suddenly seized his entire body. The moment of danger had passed; he just wished the adrenaline pumping full-power through his veins realized it. “That was…”

“That was super scary,” Lance said.

“That was close, I was going to say,” Keith replied. His hands were shaking a little bit, but he hoped it would pass. “I think that’s enough tree climbing for one day, Lance.”

Lance nodded at him. “Sure thing. Once you’re ready, we’ll head back down, no problem.”

“Just… give me a minute.

He tried to pry his hands off his branch, but they seemed reluctant to let go. He got a few fingers off first, before working to dislodge a whole hand, and then the other.

The climb back down was made in a sullen silence. Lance went first, picking the route and glancing up at Keith constantly. Keith followed slowly, trying not to think too hard about falling. He felt neither want nor need to speak. Whether it was stress or embarrassment, he couldn’t say.

After a few moments, which felt much shorter than the journey up, they made it back to ground-level. Once he was low enough, Lance simply let himself drop. His feet landed with a gentle cough against the soil. Keith followed a few moments later, taking the safer route. He lowered himself carefully to the ground, as though worried he might miss it.

Keith’s aching feet felt immediately grateful for the flat earth. Keith himself felt glad to be grounded. He flexed his aching fingers and brushed down his clothes, which were well-coated in twigs and dirt.

Lance coughed awkwardly. Keith, who was stooping to recover his tent-bag, looked up at him.

“Hey, eh,” Lance said, rubbing the back of his head. “I didn’t mean to, you know, nearly make you fall there.

Keith shrugged, jostling the rolled-up pegs. “It’s fine.”

Lance looked at him uncertainly. Keith rolled his eyes.

“Seriously, don’t worry about it,” he said. He adjusted the tent-bag over his shoulders, and began to walk off. “Anyway, we still have to find that campsite. It’s going to be dark soon.”

Lance gave him a look, but didn’t answer. Silently, he picked up his own tent-bag from the base of the tree.

Keith went to walk past Lance, deeper into the forest. As he did so, however, some obscure pang of conscience made him stop, and put a hand on Lance’s shoulder.

“Hey, besides,” he said. “You _did_ catch me.”

“I guess I did,” Lance said, his grin regrowing.

“So, thanks for that.”

“We can call it even,” Lance shrugged. The cocky grin was back – it was alright.


	3. Going Down (The Sun Is)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the boys find a campsight

Of course, now they had a problem; the sun was getting awfully low in the sky. It was beginning to peek below the leaves, into the forest itself, painting everything into chequered streets-and-avenues of orange and black.

Keith and Lance needed to find a campsite, and soon.

“How about here?” Keith asked, pointing to a cosy looking spot, situated where the ground dipped into a small hollow, with steep-ish sloping mounds of either sides. Keith figured it looked comfy.

Lance looked at it and shook his head. “I don’t know dude, that looks pretty steep. If it rains, we’ll ended up flooded.”

“Oh,” Keith said. That made sense when he thought about it.

They wandered their way through the woods, careful of any roots hidden in the now deep blankets of shadow. Keith tried to keep a sense of where they came from, but the forest rebuffed all attempts at orientation. It didn’t help that the sun just _kept on setting_ , so that the landscape seemed to melt and shift every time they turned their head.

Overhead, the wind filled the trees and puffed up the leaves, so that the whole forest seemed to be breathing. Keith heard something click and clatter up above. Elsewhere, a bush rattled with a flurry of little motions.

“Man, it’s getting spooky,” Lance said. He seemed almost excited by this fact.

“It’s getting dark,” Keith corrected. “We spent too long climbing that tree.”

“You’re the one that was going so slow,” Lance parried.

“You’re the one who made me climb it,” Keith riposted.

Lance started to counter, but instead conceded with a slight tongue-pop.

“Touché,” he shrugged. He pronounced it correctly.

They followed a long, bending route around a running brook, which they could still just about see. It splashed noisily over some rocks, and Lance hopped over it at its narrowest point. Soon they came to a break in the trees, some distance away from the water, where the forest parted like a curtain to reveal a pleasant clearing.

The clearing was wide enough for three or more tents, plus room to spare, but narrow enough to afford cover. The trees around its perimeter splayed out their top-most branches, enmeshing them to create a decent looking roof against the wind or rain. The ground seemed dry, and had a gentle enough slope running off into the trees. And best of all…

“Oh man there’s a _log_!” Lance said, sprinting into the clearing. There was, in fact, a log, tall enough to sit on, lying sideways across the one side of the clearing. Lance dropped his ass onto it immediately. “This is it. This is our campsite.”

Keith looked around with his arms crossed, nodding slowly. “It looks good,” he said. Looking at Lance, sitting in place but excitedly bouncing his knees up and down, Keith had to laugh. “Yeah, this is the place,” he said. “You’re right.”

Lance slipped his tent-bag off his shoulder and let it drop onto the ground. He nudged it out with his toe, disrupting a pile of leaves as he did.

“Don’t put that down yet,” Keith said, watching him. “We can’t set up the tents until we get Shiro.”

“Oh yeah,” Lance said, stretching himself on the log like a basking cat. He held his arms high out behind him, pulling his shirt up to his midriff. Keith looked away shyly. “I guess we better go back before we get lost.”

He climbed to his feet and, rolling his shoulders, walked back the way they came.

“You’re just going to leave your tent?” Keith asked.

“Yeah, why not?” Lance asked. “I’m marking my place. Besides, what are you worried about – somebody’s going to steal it?”

Keith thought about it for a second and, seeing the logic, dropped his bag too. Before he followed Lance, though, he took both of their bags and placed them neatly against the log.

The route back seemed even less familiar. The sun was getting extremely low now; the trees seemed more like vague blue suggestions than solid objects. Keith began to wish they’d brought a torch or two.

“Man, I’m hungry,” Lance said. He patted his belly, which rumbled on cue. “I’m gonna pig out so much when we reach the boat.”

“If we reach the boat,” Keith said. “Otherwise we might have to catch a squirrel or something.”

Lance looked at him with narrowed eyes.

“Was that a joke?” he said, leaning in at him inquisitively.

Keith rolled his eyes.

“Yes, Lance, that was a joke.”

“I didn’t know you _made_ jokes.”

“There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me.”

“Oh my god, the more the sun goes down the more dark and mysterious you get,” Lance said, throwing his hands in the air. “You’re not actually a vampire, are you?”

“No Lance, I’m not a… hey, that’s not true.”

They passed the root-wrapped tree-trunk that Keith thought he recognized climbing. In this low light, the roots seemed creepy and ominous, like endless clinging fingers.

“I don’t know… it makes sense,” Lance continued, thinking aloud. “I mean, you hit all the markers. You’re all dark and brooding…”

“No I’m not.”

“You love to perch in trees…”

“That’s the exact opposite of true.”

“You’ve got creepy cat-eyes that let you see in the dark…”

“I am literally equally as blind as you right now.”

“You’re, like, supernaturally pretty…”

“I am n… oh. Eh, thanks.”

Keith stuttered over his answer, and turned his head away in embarrassment. He was glad it was dark; if he even _started_ blushing, it would be thankfully invisible.

All of a sudden, Keith became aware of a light up ahead, a warm orange bloom radiating out between the trees. By its light, Keith could see that the ground beneath him was now and equal mix of sand and soil. They were back by the beach.

Lance, breaking into a jog, ran moth-like toward the glowing light. Keith followed.

Here on the beach, Shiro sat cross-legged in front of a crackling campfire, contentedly eating out of a tin of baked beans with a spoon. He heard Lance and Keith’s footsteps and turned, smiling at them.

“You made it back,” he observed. He gestured to the beans with his spoon, planted for stability in the sand. “Hungry?”

“Yeah I am!” Lance said, and darted towards the food. He snatched up the tin and then hissed, dropping it back into the sand. He jumped in place, waving his burned hand in the air.

Shiro smiled tolerantly. “Careful, it’s right off the fire,” he said. “Did you burn yourself?”

“Little bit,” Lance admitted. The words were hard to make out, since he now had his singed fingertips in his mouth.

“There’s some gel in the first aid kit,” Shiro said. He started to climb to his feet. “Want me to get it?”

Lance shook his head. “It’s fine,” he said. It came out sounding more like “Idt fiah.”

“There’s more beans in the boat,” Shiro said. “You’ll have to open them yourself. I had a hard enough time opening this one – these things were really designed for people with two hands.”

Keith fished around inside the boat for two more tins, and tossed one to Lance. He looked around for a can-opener, which he found behind Shiro

“So, you two took your time coming back,” Shiro said. He was using the edge of his spoon to delicately lift the spilled bean-tin.

“We took a scenic route,” Lance said.

“Up a tree,” Keith added, looking pointedly at Lance.

“I bet the scenery was lovely,” Shiro said, not looking up. He was still struggling with the beans. “Until it got dark, at least. But did you find a place to camp?”

“Hell yeah we did,” Lance said. He’d finished scalping his bean-tin, and was now nestling it between the lumps of smouldering charcoal. Keith took the opener and started on his own. “We found an awesome place to camp. It’s got a log and everything.”

“A log? Sounds fancy,” Shiro said, smiling at Lance’s excitement.

“I’ve already picked out a spot,” Lance said. “Not to brag, but it’s the best one.”

Keith scoffed. “You did not. You just dropped your bag randomly.”

“Oh Keith, how little you see,” Lance said, waving a mockingly dismissive hand. “I chose my spot very carefully. You’ll see.”

“That explains where both your tents are, then,” Shiro said. He finally had his beans grounded again, and was searching around inside the can with his spoon. Its edges made a rattling washboard sound against the inside. “Keith, you claimed a spot too?”

Keith nodded. “I… did,” he said. He was beginning to sense that Shiro was coming to a point.

Shiro nodded slowly, shovelling a spoonful of beans into his mouth. The fire-light glinted off the spoon’s metal edges.

“How is the walk back?” he asked. “Difficult?”

“I hardly fell once,” Lance beamed.

“Do you think you could make it back?”

“Yeah we can! Easy.”

“Could you make it carrying a canoe full of supplies, in the dark?” Shiro asked. With his head ducked, peering as he was into the beans, his face was partially enshrouded in shadow. Even still, there was undeniably a smile forming on his lips.

“Yeah! I’m sure we…. eh… sure we could…” Lance said. Watching the confidence drip out of his expression was a pure experience.

“Probably not,” Keith admitted. “I’d remember the way in daylight, no problem, but in the dark…”

Realization was dawning on Lance’s face. Shiro looked up at them both, the dancing firelight putting a sparkle in his eyes. His face was calm, unlined, and deeply amused.

“Keith. Lance. I love you both, but sometimes you’re as oblivious as a pair of old rocks,” he said. He shook his head, a chuckle bursting loose as he did. “So you left your tents back in the woods, where we can’t get to, and it’s already night-time.”

“We still have your tent,” Lance said, looking pleadingly at Shiro.

“I still have my tent,” Shiro corrected. “They’re one-man tents, Lance. You know how small those are.”

Shiro looked over at the canoe.

“Come on, let’s get some of that food out and make a proper dinner. If we’re not going anywhere tonight, we might as well eat well.”

Both excited by food by distraught at his mistake, Lance dragged himself towards the boat. Keith, only now getting his beans into a suitable cooking position, watched him go.

“And you boys might as well take the blankets and things out of the boat too,” Shiro added. “Might as well make room in the canoe, because tonight, you’re both going to have to sleep in it.”

**Author's Note:**

> I have some exciting and adorable ideas for where this could go. If you're interested in reading more, please let me know!


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